Herman Heijermans

“ Play on, Jelle!
[Jelle begins again.]
Kneir.
Ach, please don’t, Geert. I’m afraid that if Meneer Bos—— [Motions to Jelle to stop.]
Geert.
This one is afraid to sail, this one of the Matron of the Old Men’s Home, this one of a little ship owner! Forbids me in my own house! Commands me as though I were a servant!
Saart.
Fun is fun, but if you were a ship owner, you wouldn’t want your sailors singing like socialists either.
Kneir.
When he knows how dependent I am, too.
Geert.
[Passionately.] Dependent! Don’t be dependent! Is it an honor to do his cleaning! Why not pay for the privilege! ”

“ Rafael.
You are speaking to a Jew who claims to-day and to-morrow as his own—not yesterday! A Jew who believes that it shall not be asked if a man worship in a synagogue or in a cathedral, in a chapel or in a mosque, or in silence and solitude under God's own dome! And the falsehood you have brought me up by; our hatred and our bigotry which keeps us away from them, our cursed earthiness which keeps them away from us—I loathe it all—I hate it—I will fight it as long as I live! I am a Jew—a Jew of to-day and to-morrow; and every man whom God created in his image is my brother!
The Rabbi. ”

“ Jo.
No, I shall stay here all night.
Kneirtje.
Now, I ask you, how will it be when you’re married? When you are a mother yourself?
Jo.
[Passionately.] You don’t know what you [82] say! You don’t know what you say, Aunt Kneir! If Geert— [Stops, panting.] I didn’t dare tell you.
Kneirtje.
Is it between you and Geert? [Jo sobs loudly.] That was not good of you—not good—to have secrets. Your lover—your husband—is my son. [A silence, the wind shrieks.] Don’t stare that way into the fire. Don’t cry any more. I shall not speak any hard words. Even if it was wrong of you and of him. ”

“ He'll die of joy if he gets eight thousand guilders with his daughter-in-law. And then it will be all yours—yours and Rafael's; yours to hug and wrap your soul around, my girl; [71] all—all, from the last atom of diamond dust in the cases there, to the rust on the nail in the latch on the door that keeps away the moans of the starving!"
Rebecca.
But do you think——?
Rafael.
But you won't be betrayed by an old man's lust for gold. No! You'll say: "Father, I have a heart; I will not give myself to one I do not love, to soothe your itching palm!" You'll look well saying that, Rebecca! ”

“ Rosa.
[Rushing to Rafael.] Rafael! Rafael! Tell me the truth. Am I not your wife? Don't you love me? Do you love some one else? Do you love Aaron's daughter? They are planning to marry her to you. [45] What does it mean? [He motions her to be silent.] Does it mean that you wish it? No—no, it can't be that: you have said you were going away; but you didn't tell them of me. Why? Why do you not tell them of me?—soon enough you'll have to; and then—then you will have to choose—choose between the rage of your father—between disinheritance—poverty—the wrath of all the Ghetto, and me—only me! ”

“ Jo.
Don’t get so angry, foolish boy!
Kneir.
Oh, what a row I’ll get Saturday!
Geert.
A row, you? Why should he row with you? If you hadn’t all your life allowed this braggart who began with nothing to walk over you and treat you as a slave, while father and my brothers lost their lives on the sea making money for him, you’d give him a scolding and damn his hide for his insolence in opening his jaw.
Kneir.
I—I—God forbid.
Geert.
God forbids you to bend your neck. Here—take it—Jelle. Next year Mother will give you pennies to play. “Arise men, brothers, all unite-e-ed”——
Kneir. ”

“ Rafael.
Rosa! Rosa! Are you not my wife?
Rosa.
Your wife—here in the Ghetto—here among your people? No, to them I am a Christian—to them I cannot be your wife—to them I am a sacrilege—an insult in their teeth! Oh! as one who enters hell I entered here—a steaming hell of avarice; not life—but a sickly poisoned dream of gain, gain—always gain. ”

“ Clementine.
[Sobbing.] Come Marietje, be calm; get up.
Truus.
On his first voyage. And so brave; as he stood there, waving, when the ship— [Sobs loudly.]
Bos.
It can’t be helped, Truus. It is a visitation. There hasn’t been a storm like that in years. Think of Hengst with four children, and Jacob and Gerrit—And, although it’s no consolation, I will hand you your boy’s wages today, if you like. Both of you go home now and resign yourselves to the inevitable—take her with you—she seems——
Marietje.
[With trembling sobs.] I don’t want to go home. I want to die, die——
Clementine. ”

“ The love of the way that is easiest, the love of the son of honest Sachel—the love of a Jew!
Rafael.
[Slowly, sorrowfully.] And now you say "Jew!" "Jew!" as they say it in the streets, among the mob, when I go beyond the Ghetto. It sounds strange from lips that I thought loved me; it sounds strange from the daughter of your father! Such a man he was! When you and I had our first long talks together, and you told me of the noble deeds your father had done in behalf of the Jews, I couldn't help [61] loving you for his sake; and now you call me Jew! I am a Jew. Never forget that I am a Jew. ”

“ There is no disputing the point, since truth and falsehood are absolute terms. Perhaps the secret is that Heijermans never tires of his own philosophy. He is content to see it firmly planted on the ground; he does not demand that it should walk the tight-rope or turn somersaults as an intellectual exercise. He has accepted a view of life which some call materialistic, and others positivist, or scientific, or humanitarian; but for him it is simply humane,—founded upon social justice and human need.
A philosophy, however, does not make a dramatist. ”

“ In Ora et Labora Heijermans is less rhetorical; rather, one suspects, for lack of a mouthpiece. His peasants bear their fate, if not in silence, with almost inarticulate resignation. They are too hungry to waste words. Moreover, there is no visible enemy to denounce, no Coat of Mail, no racial prejudice, no insatiate capitalism. Winter is the villain of the piece. This is indeed naturalism, in the literal sense; humanity devoured by Nature. Everything is frost-bound: the canal, the soil, the very cattle. The barges are idle. There is no work and no warmth. ”

“ I am going to tell him that you and I were married by the Civil Authority beyond the Ghetto, that we are one and indivisible. Poor old man! I am not without love for my father, you know. He will think that I am lost for ever; he will turn me away from his door with a curse on his lips; and then, when we are gone, he'll sink down in his chair and weep; a broken life, an old age come to nothing! And he may die at any moment—it may kill him—and he might have died and never have known it.
Rosa. [73]
Rafael, I can't be the cause of his death! Don't tell him, Rafael! ”

“ Geert.
That’ll do. We don’t care for your stories, Meneer. You have become a rich man, and a tyrant. Good!—you are perhaps no worse than the rest, but don’t interfere with me in my own house. My father was a different sort. We may all become different, and perhaps my son may live to see the day when he will come, as I did, twelve years ago, crying to the office, to ask if there’s any news of his father and his two brothers! and not find their employer sitting by his warm fire and his strong box, drinking grog. ”

“ Rosa.
The very hour that he went away, and seven days are gone! Seven days—and he stood here and took me in his arms! Oh!— [turning] —you who cry after me that Rafael has deserted his Christian mistress; it is because you never knew the love of anything but money! You look down—always down! But the same clear sky was over our heads when he kissed me here, and we looked up to it and thanked God, who made us dare to lead our life in open truth before the world! Let God punish us for loving each other, if that be a crime! Oh, does He punish us? ”

“ Old Cobus can only reflect, “We take the fishes, and God takes us.” That is perhaps the most dramatic thread of all,—the parallel of fate. The struggle for existence on land drives men to the fishing-boats and the [14] Dogger Bank. From the minnows to leviathan, there is no escape. “We take the fishes, and God takes us.” A gale of wind and rain whistles through the play, sweeping the decks of life, tossing men out into the unknown.
Let us turn to the social standpoint. The ship-owner, Bos, is frankly a villain. He knows “The Good Hope” is unseaworthy, but he allows her to sail. ”

“ The Rabbi.
[To Sachel.] You had better drink in silence, and go home. You are deceiving yourself: you know not where you stand!
Rafael.
What! What does he mean, father? Am I deceiving myself? Are you not planning to marry me to Rebecca? Do you fear, then, that I have fallen in love with her? Is she not an honest girl—a shrinking girl—a girl as good as Father Aaron?
Sachel.
Yes, and better!
Rafael.
Will she not bring me a dozen of everything, and ten thousand guilders? Could man ask more? What's wrong here? Why do they not raise their glasses? ”

“ Impossible to redress the balance by individual virtue or kindliness. The masters stand for the exploiting system; for capital, for insurance, for power, for law and order and possession. Their risks are less and their temptations greater. Even from the standpoint of abstract justice, a dishonest employer may fairly be set against a drunken labourer or a gaol-bird fisherman. The one is no less natural than the other. But Heijermans goes beyond all finicking considerations of this sort. He seeks to destroy and rebuild, not to repair or adjust. He avoids mere naturalism ”

“ Could you not have fastened on someone [50] else than Rafael? Who sent you here to find him? Did your Christian God send you here?
Rosa.
[Thinking of Rafael.] Yes, yes, my God did send me here— [checks herself] —or else I should have starved.
Sachel.
Starve! Does a demon ever starve? Not while young men have hot blood! Hah! It is well that I have found you out before this thing has gone too far. Don't I know your damned tricks; you wouldn't be satisfied with a passing touch of his lips. You've got a brain—a lying, scheming, devilish brain! You want his heart—you want his soul! By God! ”

“ In despair, Rose throws herself into the canal and is drowned. Rafael comes too late to save her. The God of the Jews has taken his revenge.
The play is perhaps a little naïve and crudely imagined, but it has all the essential characteristics of Heijermans’ later work; the intense humanitarian feeling, the burning rhetoric, the frankly partisan denunciation of society. Indeed, it could not be otherwise. In dealing with such a case of bigotry and racial intolerance, it is idle for a playwright to hold the scales with abstract justice. ”

“ Aaron, Levy, Isaac, would they not have done the same? Is there any one who would not take advantage of my eyes? No; business is business.
Rafael.
Business,—Aaron, Levy, Isaac! God, how I have despised them all my life!
Esther.
Oh, he would give overweight!
Rafael. [43]
I will quarrel no more with you. When I am gone——
Sachel.
You are not going—you shall not go! [Trembling.] I have nothing in the world but you. Didn't I do it all for you? When I am dead the money will be yours, and the blame sewed up in my shroud with me. Can't you be content? ”

“ Jo.
[Laughing.] Tipsy herring, I would like to see that!
Bos.
[Laughing.] She doesn’t believe it, Kneir! We know better! Eh, what!
Kneir.
Ach—it’s no joking matter, Meneer, that miserable bad boy talks as if—as if—I had forgotten my husband—and my good Josef—and—and—but I have not. [Ends in low sobbing.]
Jo.
Come, foolish woman! please, Aunty dear!—Good-for-nothing Torment!
Bos.
Don’t cry, Kneir! Tears will not restore the dead to life——
Kneir.
No, Meneer—I know that, Meneer. Next month it will be twelve years since the Clementine went down. ”

“ Rafael.
The wind must have been Aaron, disputing the value of his wool!
The Rabbi.
Good! Good! Ha, ha, ha! He has a mind; he will not let his heart run away with his head!
Rafael.
And so Rebecca——H'm! But I shall not let [101] my heart run away with my purse. I should hold my hot young blood in bounds!
Sachel.
Not always! Not always! A young man must have his day!
Rafael.
But is she well? Is she sound? One cannot be too cautious. I knew of a girl who seemed as strong as a green peach on a tree; and she had not been two days married when, what do you think? Why, she died! ”

“ Have some coffee, Rosa!
Aaron.
You think it is not good. You don't know! That wool was bought by my daughter, Rebecca, and I'll back her judgment against any man's in the Ghetto! [Gives a little to Sachel.] Feel that!
Sachel.
[Breaking the fibres, and listening to the sound they make.] His daughter! Cotton! More cotton! His daughter!
Aaron.
I will match her with your son, any day!
Sachel. [21]
My son is in no hurry to marry.
Aaron.
Marry? I meant as a judge of wool. You are the only one that's thinking of marrying him. What's the matter—doesn't any girl's father want him? ”

“ The ship is well insured ....
It is implied, then, that shipowners are unscrupulous scoundrels, and fishermen their unhappy victims. Here is a bias which makes the actual tragedy no more impressive. Good ships, as well as bad, may perish in a storm. Nature is cruel enough without the help of man. The problem of the big fish and the little fish is one of size, not of morality. Even sharks may possibly rejoice in an amiable temperament. It can only be said that Heijermans has here chosen the right motive for his own particular type of drama. His sympathy is with the fishermen. ”

“ Sachel. [25]
Marry whom? No girl who does not bring twelve thousand guilders shall marry my son!
[Exit Esther.
[Rebecca pauses at the bridge unobserved and interested.
Rebecca.
[Aside.] They are getting on!
Aaron.
[Swelling with indignation.] Twelve thousand guilders! Twelve thousand guilders! A snap of the finger! And is your son a prince? You talk like an imbecile. Suppose some one was fool enough to give his daughter such a dowry, what would you give your son?
Sachel.
Nothing! He has his share in the business—or will have.
Aaron.
Oh, you're enough to make a man jump into the sea! ”

“ I have pity for you, for your mean existence, for your ghettos and your little false gods—for the true God is yet to come, the God of the new community; the commonwealth without gods, without baseness, without slaves! ”

“ What could Sachel do, even if he could reach the boy? After seven days, at the very moment Sachel has been persuaded to accept all this—to treat you as his daughter—here slinks Rafael along the canal and up through the warehouse and whispers that he has given you up! Then he wheedles his father out of more money than I would give ten sons, and then boards a ship for England! [To Sachel.] Do you think I'll see my daughter marry such a man? If he wants to return next year on the hope of marrying Rebecca, you tell him to remain in England! ”

“ Never a buoy, or a hatch, washed ashore. Nothing more, nothing. You can’t realize it at first, but after so many years one can’t recall their faces any more, and that’s a blessing. For hard it would be if one remembered. Now, I’ve told my story. Every sailor’s wife has something like this in her family, it’s not new. Truus is right: “The fish are dearly paid for.” Are you crying, Miss?
Clementine.
[Bursting out.] God! If any ships should go down tonight.
Kneirtje.
We are all in God’s hands, and God is great and good.
Jo.
[Springing up wildly.] Ships go down! Ships go down! The one howls. ”

“ You bore yourself with such calm—such fortitude—as if, when God had touched your eyes, He had whispered into your ears some portion of the everlasting truth. No one saw me—I was back in the shadow. And I started forward; I wanted to say, "Father—go in; father, never labour again! Sit in your chair—rest always—while I do your bidding—while I do everything!" But I did not say it. No! I stopped; I slunk back into the deepest shadow like a criminal. I had uttered a cry, but you and Jacob did not hear me. ”

“ Ready, Cobus?
Cob.
If you’ll only be careful! Good night, all! [Both exit.]
Jo.
Jesus! Don’t sit around so solemn! Let’s talk, then we won’t think of anything.
Marietje.
Last night was stormy, too, and I had such a bad dream. It was so awful.
Clementine.
Foolish girl! Dreams are not real.
Marietje.
I can’t rightly say it was a dream. There was a rap on the window, once. I lay still. Again a rap, then I got up. Nothing to be seen. Nothing. Soon as I lay down there came another rap, so. [Raps on the table with her knuckles.] And then I saw Mees, his face was pale, pale as—God! Oh, God! ”

“ In a more merciful mood it sends children running through the village to cry “’n Ball op! ’n Ball op!” as an overdue ship is signalled from the coastguard tower. And there an echo of the sea-ballad now and again; when raps are heard upon the door at the height of the storm, or a flapping curtain blows out the lamp, or a pallid face is seen at the window ....
In sheer force of theatrical construction “The Good Hope” is still more striking. There are great moments, finely conceived. The play is full of natural rather than violent coincidence. ”

“ Why, if he finds her gone and she left no word, let him draw his own conclusions; that she was afraid to stand by him; afraid to share his poverty. You say "to-morrow"? He may be back to-night! It's your one chance. If it succeeds, the girl goes, with two hundred guilders in her pocket; Rafael stays home—in due time marries Rebecca—becomes a successful Jew. If it fails—then this Christian robs you of him anyway! [Sachel ponders; then suddenly touches him; they listen; Aaron whispers.] ”

“ Barend has always feared death by drowning, and he makes his first and last voyage in a leaky trawler. His father sank in a wreck, and it is his mother, unable to maintain the household, who persuades him to go. She fears the disgrace of his refusal after the papers are signed, but he is dragged aboard by the harbour police. His brother Geert sets out proudly enough, singing the Marseillaise and preaching rebellion; but he sinks far away, impotent, unheard, and leaves his sweetheart to bear a fatherless child. ”

“ Rosa.
Rafael!
[She jumps into the canal.
Sachel.
Stop! O—O God! It isn't true! Rosa! Rosa! [At the wall.] A stick! A stick! I cannot find one! Where are you? For God's sake, answer! Don't you hear? O God! O God! [Turns to the house, where music is being played.] Daniel! Samson! Open the door! [The music drowns his voice.] Help! help! [He rushes back.] Rosa! Reach out your hand! Where are you—where are you? Answer me— [the music ceases abruptly] —answer. [A silence. He slinks away from the wall. A pause.] What will Rafael do? What will God do? ”